Red vs Blue: Bloody Fragments
by MS2013
Summary: IDEA for Season 11 and it's outcome - A new villain for the team to face is coming. Like Wash said, if they're not rescued soon, something else might find them first. OC. May or may not be related to the new soldiers introduced in Season 11
1. Overview

**OK, so I got this idea from Masthm12 on the RvB site about a new villain for the upcoming season of Red vs Blue. Hope you like it!**

**P.S: I added some details of my own to flesh him out a bit**

**Update: With the new Halo 4 Champion Pack, I've given some updates!**

**(Biography - Masthm12)**

There should be a villain in the next season who is truly a threatening villain, physically and mentally, someone who can terrorize the Reds, Blues and the remaining freelancers in body and mind. Someone beyond the capabilities of the previous villains, as the Meta was almost purely a physical foe, He should be menacing, powerful, feared, cunning and a master manipulator. Also, I've pictured what his armor should look like.

• Halo 4 Armor:

Color: Black with Red trim

Helmet: Warrior

Chest: Stalker/Prefect

Shoulders: Rogue/Ricochet

Arms: GV-09 Locking/Ricochet

Legs: RG-63 Counter PRIME/Prefect

Visor: Solar

Weapons: Magnums, Concussion Rifle, Falchion, Built-in-claws used for climbing and close-range combat

Skills and Abilities: Immense physical attributes, master martial artist, tactical genius, master of manipulation and fear, proficiency with a variety of weapons traditional and modern.

However, I've also pictured this character to be something of a tragic villain; perhaps a backstory of being a failed SPARTAN and suffering the ill effects of the augmentation process and has worked his way up to a high level rather than just a one-dimensional evil-doer. I have a feeling many users here will look on this theory with disdain, but try and take a moment to think about it, because I think Red vs. Blue needs a new villain who can escalate the intensity of the story given that the Freelancer backstory, one of the most, if not the most influential plot point, has concluded. Also with the introduction of several new characters who seem to be keeping tabs on the Reds and Blues, he could be an addition to the bunch.

**(Biography - MS2013)**

Full Name: Alexander Osiris Sinclair

Preferred Name: Alex Sinclair

Height: 207cm (6 feet, 8 inches)

Weight: 275 Ib (124 kilograms)

Hair colour: Black

Eye colour: Brown (formerly) Gold

Rank: Colonel

Specialty: Assault, Commander, Close quarters


	2. Introduction

_My name is Alex Sinclair. I am many things. Soldier, Commander, Assassin, __**Butcher**_

_My innocence was taken from me long ago. I was to become an 'ultimate soldier' - a means to grind human insurgency to dust and defend mankind against a covenant of fanatical aliens. And I have done just that…and more_

_The augmentation procedure which would enhance my physical limits beyond that of any natural human failed miserably. As I felt the sheer agony of my bones turning to glass, my blood becoming fire and the very sensation as if my veins were being torn from my body, I felt nothing but hate and outrage. I had faced my final trial of initiation and was left broken_

_I lay there for days, weeks, __**months.**__ But soon I had recovered. I was deemed fit for duty, but not for the corps I was meant to become. They saw me as a defect. A liability. But my rage boiled in me and in this modern age, there were other ways I could obtain the power they were unable to give me._

_The days went by through my training. Enhanced gravity exercise, martial arts, weapons training, polymathic studies. I wanted everything I could to become what they wanted me to be. I had no choice. What they had taken from me was irreparable. There wasn't any other path, any form of bullshit hope of a fresh start. I would only go from where I started._

_Soon I was ready, and as I looked back, I remembered the anger, the cooped-up savagery that I had suppressed for so long. And once they let me loose on the enemies of the UNSC, all hell broke loose._

_I was never good at inspiring the others; I only exuded fear, malice and for they knew, insanity. Even to those who should have been my friends, only saw me as an animal, a loose cannon barely aimed at the enemy, who could turn its firepower to them just as easily._

_But soon I became an assassin, meant to eliminate war criminals and traitors. As it seemed, we had set our sights on one of the most controversial military research projects in history:_

_**Project Freelancer**_

_I had no authority to intervene in their experiments, nor did I know for sure what they were up to abroad that frigate. But I knew its director, Leonard Church. I read through his personal file; My suspicions held more value to me than any security measures. Their research with and how they would be paired with a field agent. I knew the pain of my own enhancements, but the potential blowback of an awry A.I implant was catastrophic. Then I found it; the Director's late wife, listed amongst the deceased from one of the many battles of the Covenant. The thought lingered through my mind for years. The sudden lost of a loved one, having your family taken…away. If someone could go through that and not lose his mind, he couldn't be human._

_Our worse fears were realised. The Director, in his insanity was torturing the A.I he was assigned with. He was splintering it, extracting the various emotions of a broken mind. The UNSC's response was inimical. He was to be arrested and by the sound of his last message feed, he would come quietly. But when the authorities raided his diminishing compounds, they found nothing. He was gone, along with one of the only pieces of evidence that could convict him; a surviving A.I fragment, codenamed: "Epsilon"._

_It turned up at an obsolete post, manned by unwanted, inept soldiers. A disgraced agent offered to retrieve it, as to prove his innocence for wiping out all information that could convict the Director. He set out with another rogue, an insane juggernaut with a bloodlust that rivalled even mine. The mission turned into a wild goose chase. By the time the military had arrived at the scene, three freelancer agents lay dead, including the one who could have revealed what had happened within Project Freelancer was true. And all we had found was a team of rejects, claiming to have killed them all. An interesting story, if somewhat far-fetched._

_But now, these men have fled and according to intel, they're hunting the Director. It would seem they're seeking a pardon for several stunts they pulled off; stealing military property, withholding sensitive information and assaulting a military complex housing confiscated combat equipment._

_I don't care who they are, or what they've accomplished. But if they decide to step out of line, try anything to weasel their way out of our sight, then I will find them, and I will end them._


	3. Nevermore

_**Mother of Invention - Director's personal room**_

_The Director sat in his chair, tired and angry at what had been happening. His efforts at bringing Alison back were a failure. The Oversight Sub-Committee had only allowed him one A.I: The Alpha for his research. and despite Texas' performance both in and out of the field, he wasn't satisfied. He needed more data to perfect the shadow that he had conjured. She was so much like her, yet so radically different, there were times when she didn't recognise her._

_The Director let out a drained sigh. His day was long, with relentless barrages of work, whether filing updates on A.I research, scanning for continued Insurrection activity in hopes of discovering the alien Engineer that they had captured alongside a few literal barrages from Insurrection fighters. He had had enough of all this bullshit for one day. The normally stoic Director of Project Freelancer now felt weak and weary. As he gazed at his blank computer screen, leering at his own reflected image from the screen, the only thing, the only word that he could conjure up in his mind was…Alison._

_As he reclined in his chair, intent on burying himself in the old videos he took of her the last time they saw each other, he suddenly heard a light clunking, like heavy armour boots coming his way. Judging by the ever-increasing sound, it was coming his way, just outside his study._

_Curious and somewhat unsettled, the Director got out of his chair and slowly made his way to the door. Just as his hand tentatively hovered over the door console, the clunking stopped abruptly, Recollecting his authority, he composed himself and asked, "Who is there?"._

_No reply, not even the slightest sound._

_Irritated and now apprehensive, the Director quickly pressed the door console and stared out as the the door opened wide._

_He took a slight step out of his office and surveyed the empty hallway, dark and hollow. There was nothing there. He cursed himself; he had heard an echo. It had been a faint echo and nothing more._

_The Director shut the door and locked it, not in the mood for any more surprises, until he turned around and gasped in shock and horror._

_Before him stood a massive armoured soldier, clad in black and red: The colours of the Insurrection. His helmet had a narrow visor, which was shaped to resemble a harsh glare, much like Agent Carolina's, though his was more bulky and robust. He was huge, probably as big as Maine and certainly just as intimidating. He merely stood there, staring at the Director like some surreal statue._

_Not wanting to show fear to this opponent, especially on his home field, the Director said with every ounce of authority in his voice. "What are you doing here?"_

_"I have…concerns over your research, Dr. Church". the soldier replied in a deep, gravelly bass. The Director flinched. He wasn't any typical assassin or a thug. He was a emissary, no doubt from the Oversight Sub-Committee. He groaned inwardly. Those ignorant bureaucrats didn't know when to stop, did they?_

_"I feel that you're letting your own personal demons get in the way of your duty, Leonard". the man growled. The Director was taken back by his addressing him by 'Leonard'. He did nothing to stop the man from turning on the computer screen. He quickly typed in a few keys and then a soft, soothing voice came out._

_"Leonard, come on, stop it, put that thing down. You're gonna make me late, they're waiting for me"._

_The Director froze, the gentle edge of her voice grating against his haunted mind. He was filled with grief as he remembered her, standing there, placidly berating him for keeping her back. But soon, that sorrow was replaced with anger as his eyes moved back to the soldier who had dared to access those files._

_"I don't care who you are" the Director snarled, walking up to the brute, but keeping his distance out of caution. "But you have no right to be onboard this ship, no privilege to barge into my office and absolutely no right to access those files! Now get out whilst I'm feeling generous!" He barked._

_"I came here to deliver a message and you will listen", the man responded, his already menacing voice taking a dangerous tone. "Allison Church died that day like any other soldier. In service to the UNSC and in performing by the call of duty. And no amount of memory or dogmatic attempts at playing God is going to change that. So, I suggest you follow your directive and learn to let go of the past. What's done is done"._

_The Director made to start another outburst. But the weight of those words held onto his thoughts. How could he possibly understand what he was doing? Was he Insurrection? Part of the UNSC? Or something else? But it was imperative that nothing must leave this room._

_"I will take your message into consideration. The Director said in a clipped tone, then he summoned back his command. "But should you ever try to sneak into my holdings again, or make any attempt at speaking about this matter to anyone, I'll have your hide. Do you hear me? I never want to hear of this nonsense again or you! Am I clear?" He snapped, opening the door._

_The soldier did not react to this at all. Merely walked out into the hallway. As he turned to face the Director one last time, he only spoke one word._

_"Nevermore". And with that, he vanished into the shadows_


	4. Threshold

**This is my take on Red vs Blue Season 11. Who's the new villain? What will be the drive of the new plot? This is my theory on those questions**

**Enjoy.**

**P.S: I think the new soldier is a girl. His voice sounds altered and given RvB's penchant for badass women, why not?**

**UNSC Oversight Sub-Committee**

The entire Sub-Committee had been gathered that morning on account of an urgent matter regarding traces of the now defunct Project Freelancer. For the majority of the last year, the Committee had been sending out recovery teams to retrieve lost armour equipment, cutting-edge weapons as well as data on, or even better, an actual A.I. fragment, though that chance was one in infinitude.

Malcolm Hargrove, incumbent Chairman within the committee, looked around, gazing, inspecting the other members; bureaucrats, military advisors, officers. And right at the end, skulking in the shadows, stood a towering figure clad in iron black armour with blood red trimmings.

_Colonel Alex Sinclair_

An infamous assassin and one of the most lethal warrior the UNSC had to bear. He was the one responsible for bringing him to this very position after the last Chairperson had been discovered an Insurrectionist sympathiser. Sinclair assured Hargrove his ascendance by staining the traitor even further - The results were not pretty. But as horrific as the outcome of that slaying was, what followed was perhaps the gravest example of butchery within the UNSC's combat timeline. On December 12, 2550, Lieutenant General Marcus Sinclair, Alex's father deserted the UNSC, taking the _Thanatos_ super carrier and hundreds, if not thousands of insurgents with him to Eridanus II. The Insurrection had set the system as a focal point for an massive counterattack. All of the major insurgent groups would be there.

Of course, his father was the one who had oversaw Alex's failed augmentations several decades prior, and this last despicable act had finally sent Alex over the edge.

He had led the assault personally, having the _Hades_ (His personalised Infinity-class flagship) decimate the surrounding fleet and he near-singlehandedly tore through the FOB on the ground, leaving anyone unfortunate to come across him in pieces, impaled, or in the case of his father, gutted. Apparently, his father did have a heart after all; his own son had held it in his hand.

No one had spoke of the incident after that. The single ODST team who had supported him in the fray avoided any discussions related to that matter. But the Insurrectionists, the true deserters, had been near crippled and allowed the UNSC to focus on other matters.

"We have a problem," Malcolm spoke out, his voice stern. "Ever since the decommissioning of Project Freelancer last year, our only sources of information regarding Leonard Church, former Director of the program, holding culpability for counts of unethical conduct, assault on legitimate members of the military, destruction of military property and withholding sensitive information. And so far, the most significant leads we have are from a group of Simulation Troopers found at Sidewinder, whom were somehow able to neutralise several high-ranking agents, all possessing immense combat skills".

Murmurings began amongst the council, the chatter either anxious, concerned or puzzled.

"In recent events, however" he continued. "These 'soldiers' had discovered the Director had taken refuge at one of his fallback facilities. Evidence regarding several hundred combat drones as well as equipment analysis prove he intended to resume his experiments. But layouts of the facility's structure have shown the Director's location at the south wing, sealed inside the main chamber. As life-support had been cut off and the systems shut down, leaving survival within the chamber impossible. Therefore, whilst it's clear the Director's sentence has been served…" He said with a hint of satisfaction in his voice. "The perpetrators of the act have gone missing after being relocated to a new outpost. Intelligence reports suggest they may have crashed out in the jungle-"

"If these sim troopers have gone missing, why hasn't our 'esteemed' Colonel Sinclair gone to retrieve them?" A younger member cut in

Malcolm scowled, glancing over to Sinclair's position. He looked tense; it was clear he didn't appreciate being out of the battlefield. "If you recall, Mr Hatcher. The last time Colonel Sinclair was in the field, that was during the Eridanus massacre - I'd rather we'd not have any more similar occurrences, wouldn't you agree?"

Hatcher went silent. The Chairman continued, bringing up a hologram of a soldier in grey and green armour. "We already have one of our best on the job. She will find them, we assure you".

"We?" Hatcher raised an eyebrow

"Yes, we" Sinclair growled. "This operative's deployment was vetted by both me and the Chairman. Her skill set is commendable, and most importantly her temperament won't get in the way".

"Thank you, Colonel. That will be all. If no one else has any objections, we are adjourned"

The Committee members left without a word. As they left, Sinclair walked up to Hargrove. Malcolm frowned. Sinclair's body language was unreadable, he couldn't tell if he felt angry, concerned or any other emotion.

"You have something on your mind, Colonel?"

"Yes, when the Sim troopers were found at Sidewinder and our response teams recovered what was left, did they ever find Agent Washington? He replied gruffly

"We found his corpse on the cliffside alongside Agent Texas". The Chairman replied, trying to suppress any uncertainty

"The body, or just the armour? Also, those troopers confirmed the Meta as KIA, but where's his body as well?"

Malcolm looked pensive. "You believe the two had survived?"

"Most likely. And if so, the backlash from letting them run rampant would be immense." Sinclair replied, his voice grim

The Chairman let out a sigh. "Very well, Sinclair. If there is an occurrence and our agent discovers something outside our intel, I'll send you in. But try at the very least, to be subtle.

Sinclair let out a deep humourless chuckle. "Malcolm, subtly is part of my specialty".


	5. David and Golaith

**New Chapter! Sorry, it's been awhile and I've had other projects, but anyway I'm just working with what I've got.**

**Hope you enjoy!**

**SNOWBOUND (130 miles from Mother of Invention): 35 HOURS AFTER CRASH LANDING**

Agent Florida AKA Butch Flowers trudged through the snow, exhausted from the hike, The little Alpha capsule strapped to his hip. He and a small team of soldiers had been walking for several hours and were now a few hundred miles away from the crash site. From the damage the Mother of Invention took and the fact that nearly every vehicle in the armoury and hanger had been totalled, the only way out was on foot. As much as Florida tried to put on a brave face and stay positive in face of all of this, internally, he knew the situation was dire.

The Director was convinced that they would recover from this disaster. And how? Carolina was dead, Tex, Maine and York had all run off, Wyoming was in med bay and Wash…

_Oh god, Wash_

The guy had gone completely loony. It was like, like Carolina's breakdown gone up to eleven. Amidst the chaos, with Tex's breakout of Freelancer, with everyone focused on her, no one payed attention to the deranged agent, gunning down every soldier in his path, screaming bloody murder along the way. Flowers thought back to everyone who had run into Wash during that episode. Four-Seven Niner had seen him dismantling the armoury, and when she tried to back-talk him (bad idea, by the way), Wash's response was a bullet right into her spine. It made Flowers shudder just to think what happened to her. Wyoming was next, looking for a way to nurse his pride after being tossed around by York, he just ended up getting tossed around by Wash. Given how beat-up he looked in the med bay, the blue soldier wasn't even sure if that was a fight or a smack down.

Soon, Wash had cut his way towards the fusion reactors and ended up blowing them up. That was it because the ship crashed soon after and all they found there was a screwed up engine room and an unconscious Wash. With all that happened from CT's betrayal and the follow up act of the others, Flowers could only wonder:

_How did it all go wrong? Was all of this part of some sick game…_

Suddenly, a shot rang out, Florida instantly snapped to attention, raising his gun towards the tundra. However, a soft thud behind him caused him to turn and saw that one of his men had fallen, a huge red hole in his visor. Before he could react, another shot tore through another's chest.

Florida's eyes widened in shock. "Everyone, get out of range. MOVE!" He shouted

The twelve remaining men didn't need telling twice. They all sprinted across the snow as fast as their burning muscles could push them. As they maid their way towards a snow trench, one soldier who lagged behind was suddenly run through by something in the fog. Florida gasped as he saw. Sticking out of the man's stomach weren't knives or a sword. They were _fingers._ Five armoured fingers with the tips sheathed in sharpened claws. Not wasting anymore time, the squad opened fire on the monster, steeling themselves as their gunfire ripped their comrade to shreds like a bloody water balloon.

The thing simply vanished as they emptied out their mags. Reloading, Florida listened for footprints in the snow. Nothing. There was nothing. Had he gone? Given up? _Damn it, where was he? What is it?_

BOOM!

The explosion shook them off their feet and as Florida was spun to the icy ground from the blast, his vision blurry, his ears ringing. He saw it.

A huge red and black soldier, probably standing up to seven feet was ripping through the shrieking men like a hungry bear. A bear was one of the many ways to describe how he moved and fought. He was built like Maine, but his style was not as brutish. It moved like something similar to Tex, though more feral and animalistic. Although his form favoured and made use of his freakish strength, this guy moved methodically, smacking one soldier in the joint between the head and the neck, the claws in his gauntlets cleaving into the poor sucker's head as it flew off his body. Drawing a large red gun on his back, he let out a series of shots that sent two more flying into the trench. It was both magnificent and terrifying to watch.

But he remembered his mission. He had to get Alpha to safety, away from this lunatic.

_Is he like Theta? Is this making him nervous? Well, don't worry, little buddy. Daddy's gonna get you home_.

With that, Florida made a run for it, headed northeast into the mist. He checked his HUD. His rendezvous point was 56.8 miles. He could make that. But all the explosions, gunfire and screaming had suddenly faded out. Seems the big guy had his work cut out for him. Now he'd be after the Alpha and him.

Daring not to look back, Florida simply took off, constantly glancing at his HUD like a stopwatch. He was now 55.4 miles away from the rendezvous. 54.7 miles, 54.2 miles. Florida let in a small sigh of recognition. He was at least heading in the right direction.

_The journey of a thousand miles begins with a single step, as they say. Well, gonna keep taking those steps._

Keeping a steady breath with each step, Florida held his fingers to his com, hoping Command would be listening. Nothing.

He kept trying, skimming through each frequency. Nothing. There was nothing, except him and the psycho butcher who just ripped through his men.

As he sprinted along the tundra, his chest heaving and legs stiffly powering through the deep snow, his motion sensor began to beep. _beep, __beep, __beep, __beep._ Florida soon began to hear footsteps behind him. With a quick jerk, he turned around and saw the faint iron-crimson figure running. He couldn't have been more than 300 metres away and gaining fast.

Florida looked down into the black void of the ravine. There was no way he could climb down, much less jump down. Too steep, no grip on the ice and even if he did survive, the chance of coming out was minute. All there was left was to fight and survive. His odds in winning against something like this seemed just as high as the ravine.

Tucking the AI onto his hip, Florida drew his rifle and fired, keeping his sights trained on the soldier's head. The shots flicked the guy's armour, but aside from a slight recoil, he didn't slow down. He continued to fire until his magazine clicked dry just as the soldier had reached him. Gaping at the sight of those claws, Florida rolled out of the way and snapped a fresh magazine into his rifle. Firing again, his target began to strafe, weaving in between the agent's line of fire.

But that was what Florida was counting on. As the killer began to close the distance, Florida holstered his rifle and drew his knife, aiming straight for the throat. But the soldier lunged at him, throwing his aim off-course and instead the knife drove into the base of his neck. The soldier roared out, a deep guttural noise like a tiger. He charged into Florida, throwing him into the snow. As Florida got to his knees, drawing his rifle. He switched to his M301 and fired. He saw the soldier get thrown back from the explosion, but still he wouldn't buckle. He kept pulling the trigger, lobbing grenade after grenade at him. But he just seemed to be getting pissed off and started to weave his way through the barrage. Getting desperate, Florida unbuckled the last of his grenades strapped to his chest and waist, splattering them across the snow. Fumbling for his pistol, he fired.

A massive explosion of black smoke and white snow sprayed the cliffside like a massive geyser. The soldier lost his footing and fell into the ravine with a livid roar. Florida lay on the snow, his head pounding from the blast. But he knew there was no time for a nap. He still had 54 miles to go, with the sheer drop of the ravine as well as a fear that his new friend could have survived, it would be best for him to circle round and make his way to the rendezvous.

_Don't worry, Alpha. We're safe now._

Letting out a small sigh of relief. Florida set off into the snowy valley.


End file.
